


Memories of Us, My Name

by Oatsotas



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chronic Pain, Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Marriage, Massage, Name Changes, Nothing too explicit, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 06:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oatsotas/pseuds/Oatsotas
Summary: The memory of pain is often just as harmful as the pain itself. Peko wakes up one night in a pain that forces her to remember so much she's tried to forget. Fortunately, there's always someone there for her.





	Memories of Us, My Name

Her back hurts. It's one of those nights.

Peko breathes in the scent of her pillow, focusing on finding the exactly where the pain is. The pillow smells like her shampoo, a lovely blend of vanilla and strawberry that Fuyuhiko had gotten her the last time he left the island. For a moment the pain disappears as Peko lets herself loose in the aroma.

As soon as she shifts, however, the pain spikes again. The teres major. That's where it is. Her old kendo master had drilled into her the anatomy of the body; as a tool, she had to know which injuries would be fatal to her young master. She had been instructed to sacrifice herself if a fatal injury was imminent.

But the teres major isn't life-threatening, just aggravating, made all the more so by the fact that it's nothing but a phantom pain, a reminder of her execution that may or may not have happened.

Exhaling, Peko pushes herself up, stomach facing the bed, bending backwards. Her spine pops a few times but, while satisfying, does nothing to assuage the pain. She slumps back down on the bed, then glances at the brilliant red numbers of her alarm clock. They're too blurry without her glasses to see properly, but she can make out it's very early in the morning.

Fuyuhiko had once told her the numbers were the same color as her eyes. Peko smiles to herself remembering how flustered he'd been as she tried to figure out if the comparison was a compliment.

She turns over on her back, shoving a pillow underneath it as she does so. It helps a little. These pains are so… annoying, she supposes would be the word. They're severe enough that they can wake her, but not so harsh to require her to see Hajime or Mikan about it. They'll just tell her the same things anyway. Hajime will want to schedule more therapy and Mikan will offer her some painkillers that are really just placebos; both woman know that this kind of pain doesn't go away with a few pills.

Maybe she could go for a run. She reaches to her nightstand and grabs her glasses, puts them on, blinks as the world comes into focus. The clock reads 5:23. Yeah, definitely early enough for a run. Akane or Nekomaru might be out there, too.

Peko moves to sit up but winces as the pain shoots down her spine. It's really serious today. She puts her hand as close as she can to where the pain is, as if covering it will make it go away. She twists to the left as far as her spine will let her, then does the same to her right. It doesn't help.

"When are gonna let me take care of that for ya?" says a cocky, but quiet and gentle voice.

"Fuyuhiko…" Peko whispers, "I was unaware you were awake."

She rests a hand on the man laying next to her. He always sleeps with his back to her, always has. She used to think it was because he wanted to ignore her. To remind her that she was a tool. That's not true, though, he just finds that side comfortable. Besides, she likes looking at his back. He's grown lean and toned through hardship, like a forged blade. And he's ticklish on his left side. With his back turned, he can't see when Peko reaches over and pokes a finger into his side.

But tonight she doesn't do that. Tonight, she simply lets her hand lay still on his side. She hopes her new ring doesn't bother him, not too cold or anything.

Fuyuhiko chuckles, snorts a bit. That snort of his, such a bizarre sound to be attracted to, but she loves it. His shoulders hike up when he does it and when it escapes while around others, the cherry red color his face turns is almost as adorable as Gundham's animals.

"With how you were tossing," Fuyuhiko says, "Surprised you didn't fucking wake up everyone."

Peko looks at the sheets, frowning slightly. "I thought I was being careful with my stretches."

Fuyuhiko sits up and faces her. He twines his fingers through hers. Their rings clink together. Wind chimes in the quiet dawn of the morning. Reaching over, Fuyuhiko tucks a lock of Peko's hair behind her ear, trailing his hand down her cheek, a serious expression on his face. "Not now," he says, "You've were having a nightmare again."

"I was?" Peko asks, genuine. While it's true she does get nightmares, they all do, really, she can usually remember them. "I do not recall it, then."

Fuyuhiko frowns and scoots closer to Peko so that their hips are touching. He leans his head on her shoulder. With her free hand, Peko lightly cards her fingers through his short, fuzzy hair. He's stopped clipping designs into it recently. Which is a shame; she liked those.

They stay in that position for a while. Peko's not sure how long. Pink slats of sunlight being to streak in through the blinds. When she and Fuyuhiko were kids he used to always complain that his room faced the sun because it would wake him up before he wanted to. Peko had offered to switch spots with him but he'd just grumbled about how his spot was comfier. Now he can hardly wake up without the sun. On cloudy mornings he has a tendency to oversleep.

Peko turns her head to kiss Fuyuhiko's forehead, but as she does, the pain in her back surges. She grimaces, hoping Fuyuhiko won't notice. But he does. All these years she thought he never paid her any mind, he'd really been observing everything about her.

"Let me take care of that, Peko," he says. It sounds like an order. He looks down and swears under his breath. Old habits die so very hard.

"You may," Peko says. Hajime had suggested letting Peko give permission for Fuyuhiko to do things when they first wanted to figure out their new relationship. Give her some agency, he had said. Peko's not sure if she likes it, she prefers to just speak to Fuyuhiko without having to think about it, but they can't always do that.

Nodding, Fuyuhiko removes himself from Peko. She slides forward so that he legs hang off the bed, just barely touching the floor. Fuyuhiko positions himself on his knees behind Peko.

He starts with her shoulders. Tender, calloused hands working Peko's muscles. They're a bit clumsy. Though Fuyuhiko had been taught by Hajime how to give massages (because of course there had been an Ultimate Masseuse), it was still a foreign skill to him. It doesn't help that Peko is technically supposed to be lying down for this.

They had discovered long ago that few things make Peko more uncomfortable than being pinned down. It had been innocuous enough, she and Fuyuhiko were just getting used to casually flirting with each other and she had tickled him. He responded by lightly shoving her, which quickly descended into a faux wrestling match. Though she was stronger than Fuyuhiko, he was crafty and had managed to get Peko's legs out from under her so she fell onto the bed. He had reached over and pinned her arms to the bed, cheeky grin on his face.

Then Peko kicked him in the gut.

She'd kicked him so hard that he immediately keeled over and vomited. What was more worrying, however, was that she didn't rush over to help him. Normally, if he was in any sort of pain, she was (and still is) the first person by his side. But that time, that time she couldn't help but feel he was the aggressor. When he'd pinned her, a primal panic overtook her. Earnest fear, pure adrenaline, a cornered mouse biting the cat.

It took nearly a week for her to speak to him again.

"Peko," Fuyuhiko says, his voice next to her ear. He slides his hands down her arms, light, never grabbing them. "You thinkin' about something?"

She wants to say no out of instinct. Her concerns should not burden him. She swallows her urge and says, "Yes, I am."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do not." Some instincts are harder to overcome.

Fuyuhiko nods and gets back to work, his hands caressing Peko's bare back. It feels wonderful, as always. The pain melts away at his touch, how he sometimes bends his fingers to dig into the muscle just a bit or curves them fully so that he can lightly run his nails over her skin. She knows that it's in her head. She knows that Fuyuhiko doesn't have healing hands. No, it's the intimacy, the closeness, the care that he does it with that sets Peko's mind at ease.

She closes her eyes, focuses on his touch. His hands rise up so that they're at her shoulders again, then slope down to the center. He spreads them out so that they're close to her sides. Peko can't help but smirk as he brushes her breasts a few too many times for it to be accidental. She's not going to say anything about it later, either. No, she'll just sway her hips a bit more, touch his ear in just the right way that turns him to putty in her hands. She knows how to get him back.

It hadn't always been like that. The first time they were intimate the night ended in tears. They knew Fuyuhiko couldn't be on top and she wasn't sure she could either so they tried it on their sides. Despite being in their early twenties, Peko felt like a couple of insecure teenagers just now exploring their bodies. Fuyuhiko had missed the penetration three separate times, each one causing him to become angrier. They had to take a break so he could cool off.

When they resumed, he'd asked Peko to guide him in. She had grabbed his penis and almost pulled back. She knew the body, but knew it clinically, detached, but there she had been, a mere tool daring to touch her master in such a sensual manner. Though she managed to soldier through and they even managed to get a rhythm going, she hadn't felt anything. There were physical sensations of course, but her muscles were tight with anxiety and the position was awkward as Fuyuhiko desperately flailed around. In his frustration, he'd grabbed her.

She shoved him off the bed again. Tears fell from both of them. He'd thrown his clothes on and ran out of the room, leaving her feeling filthy, alone, and all too empty.

"Hey, you're overthinking again," Fuyuhiko says. His hands are wrapped around her waist, chest pressed against her back, he sways them side to side.

Peko smiles. "And how do you know that?"

He lifts his hand and presses a finger to her brow. "You scrunch up right here." He lets his finger drop to her lips. "And you purse your lips."

Playfully, Peko nips at his finger. He yanks it away and she can feel his glare. That silly glare he likes to wear, as if he's actually angry. "I'm sorry," Peko says, "For getting so lost in thought this morning."

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it? I may not be as good as that bastard Hajime, but I can listen."

"I am sure. I am just… thinking about how we got here." Peko bites her lip. He got her. He always does that. Once he asks her if she wants to talk a second time, she does it despite her instincts not to. She loves it so much.

"Um… got where?" Peko covers Fuyuhiko's hands with hers. Their rings clink together again. "O-oh, right. We did that thing didn't we?"

"That thing?" Peko says, bemused. "You mean get married, Fuyuhiko?"

"Y-yeah, that," he says in that cute, flustered way of his.

They had gotten married a week prior. They kept it simple and pleasant. Really an excuse to gather everyone on the islands and have a small party. There was little ritual involved, but Peko had always loved the idea of matching rings, so, at her request, Hajime managed to procure some in that mysterious way of his. Sliding the ring onto Fuyuhiko's finger had felt so natural, so smooth, it was hard to believe that their relationship had been so rocky for so long.

"Are _you_ alright?" Peko says. Fuyuhiko's hands have gone loose around her waist and she can feel him burying his nose in her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm thinking."

"Would you care to talk about it?" she asks, voice a mix of teasing lilt and genuine concern.

"Don't fucking do that," Fuyuhiko says with a sigh, but Peko can feel him smiling. "But yeah, I would."

The two readjust and lie back down in bed, facing each other, foreheads touching. Peko presses her lips to Fuyuhiko's, kissing him slow and tender. His lips are chapped. He probably lost his chapstick again and has been too embarrassed to tell anyone. It's fine, though, she always carries some with her. And his lips will always be soft to her.

"Whenever you are ready," Peko whispers.

"W-well, you know how there's that old ass tradition where y-you're supposed to take my family's name now?" Fuyuhiko looks at her, as if appraising her reaction. His eye is bright and glimmers with that beautiful childlike earnesty.

"Yes," Peko says, "I believe we agreed that we would not change names." She never wanted the Kuzuryu name, honestly. It's a name that she loves and hates. There are as many moments of joy as there are memories of trauma associated with that name.

"We did, but…" Fuyuhiko's gaze turns to anywhere but Peko's face.

Peko narrows her eyes a bit. What is he getting at? Does he want her to change her name? "Go on," she says. It sounds like an order.

Fuyuhiko takes a deep breath, levels his eye with Peko's. "I want… I want to change to my last name to yours."

She blinks, it's all she can do. "M-my name?" she manages. Her name? It was just a name the Kuzuryus gave to her so they could put something on official documentation. She's pretty sure that they specifically picked the sound "Peko Peko" because it can mean submissive. "Why?"

Fuyuhiko looks surprised at the question. He tries to back up on the bed but Peko pulls him close, pressing their bodies together. She has to crane her head back so she can actually see him, but that's okay. She doesn't want him to run away. She doesn't want to scare him away again.

"Because," Fuyuhiko says, his voice shaky. "Because I don't want my name anymore. It's tainted."

"Tainted?"

"Yeah, it's tainted and fucking dead. I buried half my fucking family myself." Fuyuhiko drives his face into Peko's chest. It's true, they personally killed most of the Kuzuryu clan during the Tragedy. The despair of being killed by the next-in-line and the lowly bodyguard,  how wonderful would that be?

A pain creeps into Peko's back, but, as if he could tell, Fuyuhiko covers the spot with his hand. She kisses his head and he kisses her chest until he manages to calm down.

"And Peko," he says, "Peko, you're so strong, so damn amazing in every way. I look at you and feel like we're the rulers of the world on top of the tallest mountain. Isn't that what your name means? Around the old mountain or something like that? What a name. I'd be honored to carry it."

He removes himself from the embrace, fixes Peko with a small, tearful gaze. Peko curls her fingers around his shoulders. There's a warmth in her chest and her heart pounds against her ribs. Her name? _Her_ name? She's never truly owned her own name before. It was a means to an end. An efficient communicative necessity. But here was Fuyuhiko, the man she loves, telling her - no, not telling her; he doesn't tell her things anymore. No, reminding her, reminding her that it is _her_ name, something that's been with her through their entire relationship. Something solid and profound. Unfettered by ties to the old world before the tragedy.

A name of rebirth.

"Fuyuhiko," she breathes. He jumps slightly. "I… I do not want Pekoyama to be my name."

"O-oh… well, that's fine, I just-"

She presses her finger to his lips. "I want Pekoyama to be _our_ name."

It takes Fuyuhiko a second to register and Peko savors that whole second of his confused look. But the look of his face bursting into his wonderfully wide grin and the sound of his snort as he laughs will forever be in her memories.

"Dammit, Peko, you really got me," he says and his voice is filled with joy that infects Peko.

She doesn't grin, but he's always said she doesn't need to. That small, comfortable smile she has is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"I fucking love you, Peko Pekoyama," Fuyuhiko says, kissing her so magically that she almost wishes it won't end.

When it inevitably does, Peko takes Fuyuhiko's face in her hands. "And I love you, Fuyuhiko Pekoyama.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, does anyone have any wine cause I just brought all the cheese. But I don't care. I love this pairing. I love their interactions, the complexity of their relationship, just everything about it.
> 
> Comments and criticism are always appreciated!


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